At the End of War
by Kris Wright
Summary: Five years into the war, Arya Stark is leading the army that was once led by her brother Robb. The race to the Iron Throne is still on, and Arya is joined by friends and other allies to help her reach the final battle and to finally seek revenge on those who did the Stark family wrong. Some spoilers from the books. Arya/Gendry
1. Old Friends and Sore Losers

Arya drew her sword and took the proper fighting stance, waiting for her opponent to follow suit. She sparred with the masked challenger, easily avoiding the assailant's blows and equally blocking her advances. They carried on like this for several minutes, the crowd around them cheering for their young leader until finally Arya saw her opening, knocked the sword out of her competitor's hand and quickly parried toward her foe with her sword at the unknown fighter's throat.

"I yield, your grace," the knight replied, hands in the air.

Arya smirked and sheathed her sword as the army cheered and the men paid their bets. She bent to retrieve her opponent's sword and handed it back. When she stood back up, she was no longer facing a masked knight, but a tall, broad woman with sharply-cut short blonde hair.

"Very well done, Brienne," Arya stated, holding out her hand to shake her guard's.

"And you, your grace," Brienne replied, taking the young queen's hand.

The war had been going on for five years, and after Robb's death, the army had chosen Arya as their new queen. While she didn't like being called such a regal title, she was glad there was an army to support her cause. She had three enemies: the Lannisters, the Freys, and the Greyjoys, and these Northern men were going to help her seek revenge on those who destroyed her family.

From the moment Arya met Brienne, she liked this unconventional woman, and the woman had taken a liking to the rough, young girl as well. When Catelyn Stark was killed, Brienne pledged her loyalty to Arya and soon became a guard, and adviser, and a trainer to the young girl, teaching her more how to handle a sword like a true knight. Today, Arya had finally surpassed her master.

As the men started to disband from the circle, there came a loud, long, bleating sound of a horn. The camp was under attack! Arya only needed to turn her head before someone appeared with her horse. She quickly jumped astride it with Brienne close behind as they raced to find more information. The men were scurrying to pick up their armor and weapons to fight their invaders.

Arya found the army's captain quickly enough and demanded information.

"There is a band of ruffians running out of the trees. They were chasing one of our scouts. They'll be here shortly, your grace."

Arya made a quick decision, "Disarm first. If they resist, then kill."

The captain nodded. "Of course, your grace." He raced off to relay the order.

"Are you sure, your grace?" Brienne asked.

"They are ruffians, not soldiers. Why kill them when they could potentially join our cause?"

The two women raced to the side of the camp where they saw a small band of men running to the camp. There, the army was set to meet them and the battled began.

The fight was over quickly; the men were crafty, but they were not skilled enough to fight a trained army. They were soon disarmed and lined up in the open field.

"Who's in charge?" the captain ordered to the imprisoned crowd. "WHO?"

A young man stepped forward.

A few soldiers grabbed the man and pulled him further out from the crowd, pushing him to his knees and forcing him to bow his head.

Moments later, Arya approached the crowd. She walked along the line of men, staring into their faces. She approached the man on the ground. "Who are you?" she demanded.

"We are the Brotherhood," the man readily replied.

"And why did you try to invade my army?"

"We weren't invading. We just wanted to steal your food and supplies."

She circled the man. He continued to look at the muddy ground. "You weren't invading? Could have fooled me, what with you rushing to my camp, chasing after one of my men."

"We were camping in the forest. We were waiting until nightfall when we would sneak in to steal your food. Your soldier just happened to find us. We were only going to capture him and question him on where to find the stuff," the man said.

"Do you have any idea whose army you just invaded?" she asked, her voice cold.

"No, nor do I care," the man replied with indifference.

Arya looked up at her men. "Would someone please enlighten this man who's camp he has infiltrated?"

Brienne stepped forward. "You have invaded the army of the North, led by the House of Stark."

The man suddenly looked up at Brienne. "Stark?"

"Yes, and you have been addressing the Queen in the North."

He looked Brienne up and down. "Don't look much like a queen."

Brienne took a step forward, drawing her sword, when Arya said, "Don't." The knight quickly re-sheathed her sword and took a step back.

"Have any of my men been killed?" he asked, returning his gaze to the ground.

Arya turned to the captain. "Captain?"

"No, your grace, but one has a minor injury. Lady Stark is working on him now."

"And what about our men?" she continued.

"Unscathed, your grace."

"Good, thank you, Captain." She walked to face the man again. "Are you content?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm the happiest man in Westeros right now," he replied sarcastically.

"You address her as 'your grace,'" Brienne called bitterly.

The man snickered. "Right, _your grace_," he replied.

"I have two options for you, heathen," Arya said. "You can remain our prisoners or you can join our army where you can readily have food in return for your service."

"I think we'll do prisoners. Free food without the obligation."

"Who said we feed our prisoners?" Arya retorted.

"Look, _your grace_," the man said, looking up. He didn't finish his sentence because he stopped short when he made eye contact with her.

Arya found herself staring into a face she thought she would never see again. While trying to keep her feelings in check, she called to Brienne. "Take him to my quarters."

"Your grace?" Brienne asked.

"_Now_."

Without another question, Brienne grabbed the man and hauled him away.

Arya looked at the men in front of her while trying to keep her face as neutral as possible. The captain approached her. "I want these men locked away until I have spoken with their leader."

He nodded and went to fulfill her orders.

She turned and walked to her tent, trying to maintain control of herself and not break out into a run. It seemed to take forever to reach her tent, but she finally made it and saw Brienne had shoved the man onto his knees again.

"Thank you, Brienne. That'll be all," she said as calmly as possible.

Her guard looked shocked. "Your grace!"

"Make sure no one disturbs us," she finished, her eyes fixed on the man's bowed head. She watched Brienne with her eyes, waiting until she saw the rustle of the hangings as her knight left. She returned her gaze to the prisoner who had lifted his head and was staring at her. "Stand up," she ordered, making her voice as steely as possible.

He obliged, rising but never taking his eyes off her. They stood there for a few moments, taking in each other's changed appearances until he finally smiled and said, "Hello, Arry."

Her cold demeanor melted and she rushed toward him, wrapping her arms around his neck, as he grasped her tightly around the waist. They stayed like that for some time, until she could finally pull away. She fiercely brushed away the tears that had appeared in her eyes as she looked at him. "You're taller."

"So are you. But not much. You look more like a girl, though," he replied in jest.

She answered with a punch to his arm. "Why didn't you come sooner?" she asked.

"I thought you'd be back in Winterfell by now."

She shook her head. "Winterfell's gone."

"What? I hadn't heard that."

"I found my brother Robb, obviously. I just traveled with them. Until he and my mother will murdered."

"I heard about that. I'm sorry, Arry. Wait, can I still call you that?"

"I'd prefer it if you did. I really don't like being called 'your grace.' It's worse than 'my lady.'"

He laughed. "I know,_ milady_."

She glared at him but let it slide. "I've missed you, Gendry."

"I've missed you, too, boy," he said teasingly.

She rolled her eyes and turned to a small sitting area she had. She gestured to one chair as she took another. "So tell me of your travels."

"Raping, pillaging, the like," Gendry said with a stupidly confident smirk.

"So what would you want with a small camp full of men?"

"I have noticed two women so far," he said defensively. "Three, if you count the knight."

"Brienne is a woman," Arya affirmed.

"You may say so, but we'd have to see the men's reactions."

"Are those all in your group?"

"No, we have a group of about five thousand men."

"Gods! _Five thousand_?"

"Yeah. How many do you have?" he asked.

"Thirty thousand. We lost ten to an awful ambush a few months ago."

"Well, you know I'll pledge to you, Arry. You can have whatever men are willing to follow."

"What happens if they don't want to join?"

"Let them go," he replied.

"I don't think my men would like that."

Gendry shrugged. "So? Aren't you the Queen or something?"

"A title I have learned to loathe."

"Then, perfect! Also, what's great is they hate the Lannisters, too. If anything this is just an easy way to get food."

"They'll have to sacrifice their lives, should it come to that."

"Are you sacrificing your life?" Gendry asked pointedly.

"Every day," she replied seriously. "Brienne has been training me for the last five years. I'm an excellent fighter now."

"Really?" She nodded. "Prove it."

"What?"

"Prove it. I want to fight you. If you beat me, my men will gladly fight for you. If I win, they get to walk away."

"They? What about you?"

"Do you think I'm letting you out of my sight again? Look what happened to you when I let you get away last time!"

"At least I'm not wearing a dress," she replied.

"Seven hells, do you own one?" he asked, feigning surprise.

"Several. But I only wear them on certain occasions," she replied.

"That's something I'll have to see," he commented. "Come on, let's fight," he urged.

"What makes you think you've gotten better in the last five years?" she asked smugly.

"I'm the leader of the group, aren't I?"

He had a point, she silently conceded. But she wasn't going to let him think he was intimidating her. "If you think I'll believe it has anything to do with your swordsmanship, you're dumber than you look. And that's saying something."

"Well, how else would you explain me being their leader?" he pressed.

"You're smarter than the lot of them. You only have half a brain, but that's more than what they all have put together."

"Do you talk like that about your own men?"

"Of course not."

"Then why are you insulting my men? Especially if they become _your_ men," Gendry reasoned.

"Because they are not my men. Yet," she pointed out.

"Fine. But I think it will look good for my men if I fight you and lose rather than simply give up."

"So you admit you'll lose."

"I'm admitting there's a possibility."

She smiled and then stood up. "Let's begin, then."

"What, now?"

"Let's go, Bull, or are you afraid to be beaten by a girl?"

He jumped up at that. "Not a chance, Wolf."

She led the way out of the tent and found Brienne standing near the entrance. "Brienne, get this man a sword. I'm going to fight him."

"Your grace?" Brienne looked shocked.

"We have come to an arrangement. If I beat him, he and his men will join our army. If he wins, they are free."

Brienne stepped close to Arya. "Your grace, please reconsider. This is nonsense."

"It is not nonsense. I know I'm a better fighter, and I know I shall win."

"It could go either way," Gendry protested.

Arya turned to give him a look.

"I'm not going easy on you, Arry," he said.

"Good, because I'm not going to go easy on you," she replied.

Brienne looked affronted at how casually this _prisoner_ had addressed her Queen, and that Arya did not even seem offended or outraged. "You will address her as her station commands," she ordered, defending her Queen.

"Brienne, it's all right. He's an old friend. He knew me when I was just Arry, so I'd prefer it if he continues to call me that." She looked back at her friend. "But let's just keep that to ourselves. In front of the men, we should try to keep up our appearances. It's good for morale."

"If you say so, _milady_," Gendry said silkily, bowing for effect.

She sighed. "You're hopeless. Let's go."

She led the way back through the crowd where her men were standing idly by, waiting for her return and her order. "Captain, please retrieve the prisoners." The captain followed orders and soon returned with the chained men.

"The leader of the Brotherhood wishes to be tried by combat. He will stand as champion for his clan, and I shall stand as champion for our army." The men protested. Several volunteered to take her place. She held up her hands. "No. This is something I must do. We will not be fighting to the death, for there is no need to go to that extreme, only until one disarms the other. If I win, the Brotherhood, should they choose to, will join our army and fight for our cause." The men started to protest, but she put her hand up again to silence them.

"We need more men, and if I have to fight to get them, then I will. But if this man can disarm me, then all his men are free to go." No one protested that. Certainly, she would not lose.

She turned to face Gendry, who had been given a sword, and pulled out her own. She turned sideface and held her sword out to prepare for battle. Gendry unsheathed his sword and tested it. "The balance is all wrong. I can't fight with an unbalanced sword. I'll surely lose," he argued.

Arya sighed. "Brienne, please donate your sword. I know for a fact that hers is impeccable and should do the trick."

Brienne reluctantly passed her beloved weapon to Gendry, who happily took it and tested it. "Oh, yes, this'll do nicely."

Instead of turning sideface, he faced her head-on, sword in front of him. With a grin and a cry, he ran toward her. She easily glided out of the way, gracefully stepping away and facing him again. He noticed early on that her movements were fluid and confident, like she was performing a dance. His choppy attacks were unrefined and unpredictable, but he could tell she could read his every move before he made them.

They fought like this for several minutes, their swords barely touching. Finally, after she saw his energy draining, she attacked. His defensive swordwork was basic, but he was strong enough to keep her at bay. As she inched closer, he engaged more of his strength, locking swords, until she was forced to use both her arms to keep her from losing her grip. He was smiling as he increased pressure on his sword, causing her to bend her knees. She saw some of her men stand at the ready out of the corner of her eye, but she was not going to let them in the fight. Instead, she lifted her foot and kicked him in the stomach, pushing him away.

Before he could recover and attack again, She collapsed on the ground and swept his legs out from under him. He fell hard on the ground, sword falling from his grasp. She kicked the sword out of the way and crouched over him, sword perched gently on his heart. "Do you yield?" she asked.

He nodded. "I yield."

The crowd cheered as she stood up and held out her hand to help him up. Once they were standing, they shook and hands and smiled at one another. The Brotherhood, however, looked displeased.

"We should have had a better fighter than you," one called out, enraged.

"Do you really think you lot could have taken her?" Gendry said to his men. "She's the best swordsman I've ever seen."

"Then you haven't seen many," a large brute said in a deep baritone.

"If you like, I can fight your other best fighter," Arya said calmly. "Or, you can be welcomed into our army where we will feed you and train you to be better fighters. The choice is yours."

"If we join your army, we'd have to fight for you," another one yelled, disgusted.

"Do you have any idea what our cause is?" she demanded.

No one spoke.

"Right, well, then, perhaps I'll tell you a little story," she announced.

And so, with the men listening intently to her, she told the story of her father's death and how that caused an uprising from her brother and the Northerners; she talked of how a family friend betrayed them and took her family home, killing innocent house members, including her little brothers, until they finally ran off, burning her home as the left; and she talked of the old, evil man who murdered her brother and mother for not upholding their end of a deal. And then she said that there was a pretender on the throne who did not even have Baratheon blood in his veins and she felt it right to remove him from that throne and allow the rightful heir to claim it.

When she was finished, she looked at the men and knew that they were no longer the Brotherhood, but members of her army. That night, they all took the vow and were given meals and a place to sleep. The rest of the Brotherhood were fetched and offered the same option. They all joined the first group of men in their new section of the camp. Gendry, however, was given his own tent, because he was an old friend and because she was already making big plans for him.


	2. Shave and a Haircut

A/N: This is pretty much a backstory chapter. I'll push the plot further along in the next chapter, but I want to savor this story. Also, as you read, you'll see that I've kept some plotlines from the books while others I have completely disregarded. Let's just say this story is influenced by the books, but follows the TV storyline. (AKA This isn't technically AU yet.)

Enjoy!

* * *

_She ran. She ran as fast as she could, her lungs on fire and her legs growing weak, but still she didn't stop. She had to get as far away from them as possible. She didn't know how long she had been running or how far she had gotten but she knew she had to keep going. Just a little while longer, she kept telling herself._

_Finally, she tripped on a root and fell hard onto the forest floor. Dirt and leaves met her face as gravity pulled her down. She quickly got up but stopped, trying to quiet her erratic breathing, and listening for any sounds of people following her. She managed to slow down her breathing and heard nothing. She looked all around her, eyes frantically searching for any movement amongst the trees. Again, nothing. She finally looked up at the sky to measure the sun's place in the sky. She was following the sun west, and it would be setting in a number of hours. She needed to find the river. She needed to get to Riverrun._

_As she got back up and started walking again, she thought back to the friends she had left behind. Hot Pie had hidden when the fight began, but Gendry…Gendry fought for her. He distracted the men and told her to get out and to run as fast as she could. Before she could properly say good bye to her friends, she was gone. For all she knew her friends were dead now. She didn't think they'd stick together forever. Gendry had decided to join the Brotherhood and Hot Pie was thinking of staying in the inn to work in the kitchens. He was no protector._

_The Brotherhood, having shut The Hound up, offered to help Arya find her family, but they didn't foresee someone in the inn overhearing and sharing this news with the Lannister army. When a small band of scouts appeared, there was nothing to do but fight to protect Arya and get her away. And now, as she made her way through the seemingly endless forest, she thought she would never see her friends again._

* * *

"We need to end this now," Lord Karstark urged. Arya always wondered how the man continued to live so long. He was getting old and was always cranky.

"And what do you propose we do?" Arya asked, exasperated by his constant suggestion.

"We should unite with Stannis Baratheon. He is the rightful heir to the throne. If you do not seek it, why should we hinder his ascension?"

"He doesn't want Joffrey dead and he'll try to stop me," she spat. "He's going to die, and I'm taking his head."

"No one argues that, your grace," Captain Glover said. "But perhaps we could devise an arrangement with King Stannis."

"And what would that be? 'We don't want the throne but we want Joffrey's head. We'll help you if you help us.'" Arya commented. She was getting irritated with this subject.

"Our numbers alone cannot take King's Landing, but King Stannis's army could certainly be of use to us," Lord Karstark urged.

"Do you not recall the first time Stannis tried to take King's Landing?" Arya argued.

"Like you do?" Gendry called as he entered Arya's tent.

"What are you doing here?" Captain Glover demanded, jumping up from his chair. "You have no right being in here!"

"Actually, Captain, I've invited him," Arya said. Captain Glover stared at her until he nodded and sat down in his seat again. "Gendry, please sit down."

"Thank you, your grace," he said, taking the empty seat beside her.

"What about if we take the Iron Islands? If Balon Greyjoy won't join us, we'll just take his army from him," Captain Glover offered instead.

"Now there's a reasonable suggestion. But the only difficulty is they are on an island, and we have no ships," she said.

"Force them onto the mainland," the Captain continued.

"So they can destroy us with their cannons? No," Arya countered.

"We should assassinate Lord Frey and steal his army and castle," Brienne said.

Arya looked at Brienne. "How would we do that? Their army is too large. They would surely kill all our men."

"Were you not told of the arrangement Lady Catelyn Stark made with Lord Frey concerning King Robb and yourself?"

"Yes, that's why they kept my identity hidden when I found them again. They knew Lord Frey was upset that Robb married Talisa; they didn't want him retaliating should he call on me to fulfill my duty."

"Well, why could you not express that you wish to honor your mother's arrangement and join the two houses?"

Arya looked appalled. "I'm not going to marry a Frey!"

"I would never suggest such a thing, your grace. I only mean for them to let you into their castle; from there you can assassinate Lord Frey before he marries you off to one of his sons."

"That's risky, at best," Captain Glover said. "The house could easily strike back and kill her before she could leave the grounds."

"Then I will accompany her and do it myself. I would deflect them so she could escape," Brienne concluded.

"Brienne, I can't ask you to do that," Arya argued.

"They have dishonored the House of Stark, your grace. They must pay for their errors."

"It's my brother's own stupid fault for marrying for love in the first place."

"How kind, your grace," a voice said from the entrance.

"Oh, Talisa, you know I'm only kidding. You are my sister and I love you," Arya said.

Talisa Stark approached Arya. "And I dote upon you, dear sister."

"Did you hear of Brienne's idea? What do you think of it?"

"I think you should not entertain such a plan. They killed Robb and his men with ease. They could easily kill you too if you were to go near them."

"I don't know, I'm kind of curious to see what my husband is supposed to look like."

"Arya, you are not marrying any Frey. If you believe marrying will be in your best interest, I'm sure Lord Karstark can arrange for something better."

Arya laughed. "Talisa, I don't think I'm ever getting married, but thank you for that."

"No, she's right, your grace. You should be married," Lord Karstark interjected.

"If I do ever decide to marry, Lord Karstark, I will be choosing my own spouse, just as Robb did; just as my father wished it," Arya stated. "Now, please, let's get off the subject of marriage. It's starting to annoy me."

She twirled a strand of her long, dark hair. Ever since she had her first bleeding, her hair took on the curl her two elder brothers shared. Her handmaids made a point of keeping her hair brushed and styled, but she always managed to undo their work. She had taken to playing with her long hair when she was either bored or annoyed. Those in her council had quickly picked up on this cue.

"Of course, your grace," Lord Karstark responded.

"Have you spoken to your sister, your grace?" Captain Carver suddenly asked.

"I have not. Tyrion Lannister keeps a close eye on her," she responded.

"I thought he supported our cause?" Lord Karstark asked.

"He does, but he cannot simply join our ranks. His family will hunt him down. We must continue to wait for information from the Lannister camp," Arya reasoned.

"Perhaps you could send word? It is not uncommon for one sister to reach out to another," Lord Karstark said.

"I sent a raven last week when we moved camp. It would be suspicious of me to reach out to the sister I have never been close to. The Lannisters are aware of my relationship with Sansa."

Everyone sat in silence, unsure of what to say next.

Arya sighed. "Let's adjourn this meeting. It seems to be getting nowhere. Again."

The two elder men stood, bowed to Arya, and walked out of her tent with Talisa. Brienne stood and looked at Gendry. "She was suggesting everyone leave," she said.

Gendry looked pointedly at her. "And yet you're still here."

Brienne looked at Arya. "It's all right, Brienne. I haven't had an opportunity to properly catch up with my old friend yet."

The female knight bowed to her queen. "I will be right outside," she said and left.

Arya looked at Gendry, fully taking in his changed appearance. While his features were mostly unchanged, he looked somehow fuller. He had grown a few more inches since she last saw her friend, and his hair was slightly longer than before. He was still thin and lean and he had a few days' worth of stubble on his chin.

"Were you not given a razor?" she asked, remarking on his whiskers.

He ran a hand down his cheek, rustling the coarse hair on his face. "No, I thought I'd grow out a beard. What do you think?"

Her eyes grew wide. "I think you would look mad," she replied.

He laughed. "I wasn't given a looking glass," he said.

"Is there not a man who can cut off another's whiskers?" she asked.

"I'm sure there is, but one who could easily cut my throat in the process," he said.

"I can still do it," she said.

He laughed. "You did it for me twice with a broadsword and you nearly took my head off," he replied, recalling their time wandering through the forest together. He had just been able to grow stubble, but it had itched like mad so little eleven-year-old, fearless Arry had shaved his chin for him, to disastrous results.

"I can access a proper razor now," she argued. She turned her head "Ilaria," she called. A young and eager black-haired woman rushed over and knelt near Arya's feet.

"Yes, your grace?" she asked brightly.

"Please acquire a small shaving razor for me," she ordered.

The woman's head shot up to look at her queen. "Your grace?"

"Now, please," she pushed.

"Yes, your grace," Ilaria said and soon disappeared behind the curtain to the camp.

She grabbed a small section of her hair and twirled it around her finger. "When did you take that up?" Gendry asked, gesturing to her new habit.

"Ever since I had to grow out my hair and have it tied back."

"You know, you can be in control of your own hair," Gendry suggested.

Arya smirked. "If I chopped off my hair again, I think my advisers would die of horror."

"Then why haven't you done it already?"

She laughed. "I shave, you cut?"

"Deal."

They both spat into their hands and shook. It was their way of keeping promises and brokering deals. Before they had escaped Harrenhal, Gendry promised to protect her and help her find her family, and she promised to give him a livelihood with her family's protection.

Ilaria soon returned with a razor, a warm towel, and some freshly concocted shaving salve. "Thank you, Ilaria. You may leave," Arya instructed.

The young lady curtseyed and exited again.

"So, shave or cut first?" Arya asked once the razor was in her hand.

"I hope you mean the shave for me and cut for you," Gendry said warily.

Arya rolled her eyes and stood up, approaching her friend. She pushed his head back and placed the towel on his face.

"That feels nice," he said, muffled under the material.

She smiled, stirring the concoction so it would not separate. She pulled the towel off his face and smeared the cream onto his face and neck. She delicately placed the cool blade against his face and gently ran it along his cheek. The cream and the hair disappeared, leaving smooth skin underneath.

"Your sister is married to the Imp, right?" Gendry asked beneath a glop of cream.

"Don't move!" Arya chastised. She wiped the razor on the towel and continued to slowly slice off his stubble. "Yes. Three years now. At first I thought it was going to be a nightmare for her, but it turns out he is a good man. His father has a close eye on him so he can't take Sansa back to Winterfell and rebuild it, but she's comfortable and safe."

Gendry made a noncommittal noise.

Arya dropped her voice. "I did receive a ribbon from her. I didn't tell the others because it had nothing to do with the war."

Here, he made a questioning sound.

"Sansa's with child," she said in a hushed tone. Gendry's eyes grew large. "I know, an imp siring a child. But she seemed quite thrilled with the news. I think she has learned to love that small man."

Arya tilted Gendry's head further back so she could access his neck. Gendry watched her with his eyes. She was concentrated on her work, but her brow was furrowed, as if her mind was hundreds of miles away with her sister, dreaming of reuniting her broken, dead family. "How do you feel about it?" he asked.

"Stop moving!" she hissed. She paused to make sure blood was not welling from his neck. After a few moments, she seemed satisfied at the lack of red and returned to her work. "I'm not sure. I don't know what she is like now. I still remember the proud young girl who thought she was too good to be around me or even to acknowledge our brother."

Arya wiped away the remaining ointment on his face with the towel and stepped back to admire her work. "Why wouldn't she acknowledge your brother?"

"Because he's a bastard."

"Oh, you mean Jon Snow," he said, recalling her endless tales of her fearless half brother. He ran a hand along his face, his face contorting into a surprisingly pleased look. He looked like the sixteen-year-old boy she had met all those years ago.

She smiled faintly. "Yes. I wish I knew how he fared."

Gendry stood up and took the razor gently out of her hands. "Once this is over, you'll find him again."

She looked up at him as he grabbed a fistful of her hair and started to saw away at it. He was not making it is a short as it had been when he had first met her, but he thought this long hair was too long for her. When he finished, her hair was bluntly cut at her shoulders, his only reference point, and her curls seemed to bounce more after being released from the pressure of its own weight.

She put up a hand to feel its length. "How does it look?" she asked.

"Choppy."

She smiled. "It feels incredible. Like my head lost so much weight."

"Oh Gods, were your brains in it?" he asked teasingly.

She lightly pushed him.

"Thank you," she replied. "I almost feel like myself again."

"You almost look like yourself again," he replied.

Their eyes locked. They looked at one another as the thought of all the time that has passed, what would have happened, and what could be. Each wished they could be children again during that carefree time when everything seemed so easy and perfect, but they were also glad, for some reason, that they were standing in this very spot at this particular moment.

"Your grace," Brienne said, storming into the tent. Before she could process the scene in front of her, she blurted out her purpose for being there. "We've captured Theon Greyjoy."


	3. Secrets and Surprises

A/N: This took longer than I expected. The chapter ended up originally being twice as long as this, but I decided to cut it in half and keep you all in suspense. For now, enjoy this push in the plot and the next chapter will be nice and dramatic.

* * *

"Who authorized this?" Arya asked angrily as Brienne led her to where Theon Greyjoy was being held.

"Some of our men further north spotted him at an inn. They grabbed him once he was alone," the knight explained.

Arya was enraged. She wanted to make Theon pay, but she didn't want him prisoner. She wanted to capture him in battle and honorably remove his head. This seemed underhanded and dangerous. If Balon Greyjoy found out, he would surely attack her army. Especially the small numbers holding her land in the north.

She made it to the tent where two of her soldiers had placed him. She approached the man standing outside the tent, waiting for her. "Are you the one who brought him here?" she asked without preamble.

"Yes, your grace," the soldier replied, bowing with a flourish. "Two more of my men were with me."

"And who approved this capture?"

"No one, your grace," he said, mildly surprised at her forceful tone. "We knew he was one of the men who needed to answer for his crimes against the noble Stark family, and since he was alone and in bad sorts, we thought it was a good omen and brought him to you," the proud soldier explained.

"Did anyone see you or know who you served?"

"Not that we could determine, your grace. It seemed that no one recognized Greyjoy, either. He was it bad shape, your grace. His foot…there's something wrong with it. He looked dirty and he had a full beard, as if he hadn't had a good grooming in months. We suspected that perhaps Balon Greyjoy had tossed his son aside."

"What if this was a trap? Do you have any idea what will happen if Balon Greyjoy finds out? Or if word gets out that we are the ones who have him?"

The soldier was silent. His grin had fallen into a frown and he seemed chastised. "No, your grace. We did not fully consider the consequences. But I can assure you that we took all necessary precautions to prevent our exposure."

She sighed. "Very well. I guess we will have to keep our ears to the ground and see if rumors start to spread of his disappearance."

The soldier nodded and smiled with relief. "Thank you, your grace."

"If you decide to act without specific instructions again, it'll be _your_ head I take," she warned with a fiery glint in her eyes.

He stared at her for a few moments in fear. "Yes, your grace," he said in understanding.

"Good, now let's see him," she replied as if the previous exchange had not just occurred.

"He is still unconscious, your grace," the soldier replied. He was still frightened.

"All the better. I'd rather he not see who his captor is at the moment," Arya said.

The solider pulled back the door flap and gestured for her to proceed. She entered the dark tent and saw only a small lamp in the center of the room hanging over the prisoner and illuminating him in sharp contrast to the shadows. She looked upon the man who she once considered an honorable young man, loyal to her father and family. Now, he looked haggard, aged more than the last five years, with long, unkempt hair and a patchy beard. She was almost amused by how far he had fallen since he tried his luck with his father instead of by her brother's side.

He was on the ground, tied to a pole that someone had dug into the earth and a swatch of cloth tied around his mouth as a gag. His right eye was swollen from what she assumed was a result of his possible resistance. There was dried blood on his split, chapped lips and he looked deathly thin. She remembered him as always have a trim figure, but he seemed to be wasting away in front of her now.

Arya took one last hard look at the unconscious man in front of her and then turned to exit. As she passed by the soldier she stopped and said, "Bring him food only when you feel he needs it in order to survive. And make sure no one else tries to take their vengeance on him. I am not ready to end this just yet."

The soldier nodded. "I will do as you instruct, your grace."

She turned without another word and walked away.

* * *

Two weeks has passed, and the men were starting to get restless. They couldn't believe that Arya was letting Theon the Traitor live in their care instead of doing her duty and separating his worthless head from his poor excuse for a body.

"The men are starting to question you," Lord Karstark warned as they sat in Arya's tent during their daily council meetings. "It might be best to end this whole ordeal and move on."

"I am not satisfied that we have waited long enough for word on whether Greyjoy's abduction is known before we make any move," Arya argued.

"If the Greyjoys had heard of it, they'd be on our territory by now," Captain Glover stated. "He's not a very smart man. He would play his hand as soon as he had been dealt it."

"But that daughter of his is rather crafty. She's taken most of the western islands," Brienne added.

"Yes, we all know how much you'd like to fuck her," Lord Karstark commented roughly.

"Lord Karstark, you will do well to remember that Brienne is a lady and an equal to you in my council," Arya said coldly. "If you do not like this arrangement, I could seek my council elsewhere," she started. Lord Karstark smiled. "Perhaps you would prefer to guard Theon Greyjoy's tent instead," she finished. The smile slipped from his face as he stared at her.

Gendry smirked. Arya had always been feisty and always had a rude word to throw at those who deserved it. This Lord Karstark was definitely deserving of her quick wit and acidic tongue. The man had looked utterly shocked at her verbal assault, but quickly recovered and was now looking at her with daggers in his eyes. Gendry thought it best to assuage the oncoming argument and spoke up.

"Aren't you supposed to be meeting with a Lannister spy tomorrow?" Gendry asked.

Two days previous, Arya had received an encrypted note from Tyrion Lannister asking for a secret meeting with one of his loyal men. They agreed upon the time and place: an inn off the Kingsroad in the early evening where they wouldn't be bothered. Arya had planned to take Captain Glover and Gendry with her to the arranged meeting. They were to head out the following dawn.

"Yes. I don't know what information they need to pass on in person, but it must be important. Perhaps there has been word of Theon's kidnapping after all," Arya replied.

"Or perhaps it is an ambush and they will kidnap, rape, and kill you," Lord Karstark replied rudely.

Brienne stood up abruptly, her sword still singing from being pulled from its scabbard and pointing directly at Lord Karstark's throat. "How dare you address the queen in that manner," she said loyally.

"Lord Karstark, are you starting to question my leadership as well?" Arya asked calmly.

He looked at his queen, then back up at the giant woman who was holding him hostage. "Robb Stark wouldn't have hesitated to behead that traitor," he said gruffly.

"My brother Robb would have understood the difference between a rightful death and a back-alley murder," Arya replied.

The old man looked at her, not saying a word. He knew he was trading on thin ice and he was wise enough to shut his mouth before he would regret it.

"I think we've had our fun today," Gendry said, sensing the tense atmosphere in the tent.

"Yes, let's adjourn until tomorrow. I will tell you all of my meeting with the Lannister spy when I return," Arya said as she watched her council stand up and prepare to exit. She watched Lord Karstark trail the other three members. As he passed by her she said, "You were wise to stop when you did. Next time you speak in that disrespectful manner, I'll have your tongue."

* * *

Arya and Gendry were riding in tandem on the wide trail in the forest. Captain Glover was riding a few paces behind them, his eyes and ears alert for any movement amongst the trees. They were staying as far off the Kingsroad as possible without losing it completely. It was their only marker to find this hidden inn.

"You were out of sorts yesterday," Gendry remarked as they cantered along.

"I know. I've never liked Karstark and I didn't like the way he was speaking to me. This whole being a queen thing is really daunting," she replied.

"And here I thought you weren't lady-like enough. You are a queen whether you think so or not."

"I'm stubborn and angry all the time. That doesn't make one a good queen," she remarked.

"What does make you a good queen is that you're just as good at running an army as your brother was known to be and you care about your men. They're too stupid to figure it out but you're trying to protect them. I know that's why you haven't killed Greyjoy yet," Gendry replied.

She hid a smirk beneath the layers of her cloak. Winter had arrived and every man in her army had searched high and low for enough furs to keep them warm in their tents and on the battlefield. She was wearing layers of breeches and shirts, armor, and at least three cloaks. She wasn't that cold, she was a Northerner, but her handmaids had insisted she wear the many articles of clothing. She would have to thank them since her feet were currently warmer than they would have been if she hadn't been coerced into applying three pairs of stockings rather than the one.

She snuck a quick glance at her travelling companion. He seemed to be just as bundled up as she was as he looked bulkier than he normally did. Clouds of warm air were billowing from beneath his hood as they trotted through the forest. He was a Southerner, so he was probably feeling the chill more than she, but he was doing well to hide it.

"Do you think I'm making the right decision?" she asked quietly.

He looked over at her and gave her a long look. She thought she would have to repeat herself when he said, "You are always thinking about others. Remember when you had the opportunity to escape from Harrenhal? What did you do? You came for Hot Pie and me. Why?"

"Because I couldn't make it out there alone," she replied.

"Because you didn't want to leave us there. You couldn't save all the boys, but you saved us. We weren't much help on the road, if you recall. You would have done just as well on your own, maybe better, but you took us with you and you didn't take no for an answer we thought about staying. And what did we hear when we met with the Brotherhood? _Everyone at Harrenhal had been killed._ You saved our lives, Arry. You may not know it, but you're a born leader and you certainly think things through before acting," he said.

They were silent for a few beats, then Arya said, "You didn't answer my question, stupid."

Gendry laughed. "You can't ask for my opinion because I'll always follow you," he concluded.

Arya felt a warm feeling surge through her core. She knew he was loyal to her, but his statement proved that he would always pledge to her and stand by her side. He was one of the few she knew she could fully trust. He would never betray her, and she, likewise, would never do anything to betray his trust.

* * *

They arrived at the inn with no incident. Arya looked at the sky and noticed the sun starting to set. They were just in time. She pulled her hood further over her face and led the way into the inn. The tables weren't all full, but there were enough men that her meeting wouldn't raise suspicion. She glanced from table to table, looking for someone sitting alone, or rather someone who was not deeply engaged in conversation with others.

In the back corner, she spotted three cloaked figures sitting on a bench facing the door. As she approached, she noticed that the man in the middle was remarkably shorter than the other two. She smiled to herself. "I think we have a child spy," she said cheekily.

"And a child queen, how remarkable," a voice from the small hooded figure replied.

She sat across from her brother-in-law and glanced up from underneath her cloak. "I thought you were sending one of your men," she said.

"I am the one man I trust the most with all my secrets," Tyrion replied.

"And yet you have your bodyguards," she said, implying the two extra figures.

"An arm and a footstool," he commented. He slightly turned his head. "Go play," he directed to them.

The two men stood up and walked over to two of the whores standing near the windows. Tyrion looked up slightly from his hood to look at her men. "And what of yours?"

With her eyes still locked on his visible, disfigured face, she said, "Go get some food, boys."

With slight hesitation, Captain Glover and Gendry left Arya alone with the half man. "You have been a very busy girl," Tyrion started without preamble, placing his short arms on the table and interlacing his stubby fingers together.

"Do tell me of your fascinating stories," Arya said. She knew early on that it was best to let Tyrion do the talking and to ask questions or supply information only when necessary. This was their third meeting and they had managed to keep these conferences hidden from the wrong people.

"Well there are the obvious ones you know about, as you are in charge of your army. Moving ever so slowly down the western shores of the realm, claiming whatever stronghold you can get your hands on. There's one little rumor that tickled my ear not too long ago that I think you will enjoy immensely," he said.

Arya raised an eyebrow displaying mild interest. "Oh? And what is that?"

"Theon Greyjoy of the Iron Islands—I'm sorry, you must already know him, of course—has been missing for some time; some say abandoned by his father, others claim he was the one to abdicate, but the story of the day is he has been kidnapped," Tyrion shared.

"Leave it to you to weave a boring tale into an exciting adventure," Arya said with a smirk.

"Oh, the story gets better. It seems the kidnapper is none other than the daughter of the house Greyjoy destroyed. What is your response to this?" he asked with a glint in his eye.

"I cannot possibly think why your storytellers would suddenly include me in this story. I've been focused on raising troops to go after Joffrey. Theon Greyjoy is an afterthought. He is a bug that will continue to survive throughout this war only to be squashed when everything seems right again. Perhaps the Brotherhood without Banners took him," Arya stated.

"Interestingly, the Brotherhood has seemed to have disappeared as well," Tyrion commented.

"How strange. Maybe they are in hiding or are out of even your reach," she replied.

"That is always a possibility, but they are a large number. It's a wonder that their numbers should have diminished when yours have grown by a curiously similar amount."

She smiled. "I guess coincidences are everywhere."

Tyrion nodded in understanding. She knew very well that he could see right through her lies, even if she was much better at it than Sansa ever was. What she needed to know now was whether this news was commonplace.

"I wonder, is this version of Greyjoy's story a popular twist amongst the people now?" Arya asked as innocuously as possible.

The small man smiled at her veiled attempt at innocence. "Not yet, and I don't think it will be. Perhaps the Lannisters at Casterly Rock have seen him begging for amnesty only to be turned away into the cold and to certain death. Perhaps your version is the truth and he has been captured by the mysterious Brotherhood. Perhaps he will not survive the war as you believe he will," he replied.

"Perhaps not," she agreed.

She silently thanked the Gods for Tyrion's offer to help ward off attention to her army. Now she could safely deal with Theon when she returned to camp. If the men hadn't taken care of him already.

"Now for my most fascinating news," he said, leaning over the table to get closer to his coconspirator.

She glanced around to make sure no one was watching them. Tyrion's men were currently enjoying the company of the whores by the windows, engaging in touching and kissing and certain activities she had never before seen in her life. Gendry and Captain Glover were at a table close by, eating some food but keeping a close watch on the room. She leaned closer to her brother and waited for him to speak.

"Daenerys Targaryen is coming home to Westeros." Arya's eyes widened. "With an army of twenty thousand and three dragons." Her mouth dropped open as she looked at the dwarf in shock.

"That's just a rumor, right?"

Tyrion shrugged. "Some say it is, but I have heard stories from Essos and it seems she has a ship or two and is heading home to take back her throne. There are some who would view this as a golden opportunity."

"How so?" she asked curiously.

"A win on the throne and someone to put there. I would think the first army to offer their allegiance will be a lucky band of fighters indeed, especially if their leader has no desire to sit on the Iron Throne," he continued. "She is said to make port within the next two weeks. If I had an army, I would be composing my letter right this very moment. As it is, I'm very content with my life at the moment and have no desire to be entering any race for the Throne."

She smiled and leaned back. Their meeting as over. She had much to think about, but first she needed to know about her sister. "How is she?"

Tyrion smiled crookedly. "She's getting larger by the day. I swear this infant will be bigger than me when it comes out."

Arya chuckled. "I wish I could see her."

"If what I have heard is true, you may be seeing her sooner than you think. Maybe we can have this whole mess straightened out by the time she gives birth. Wouldn't that be wonderful?"

"I will try my best, brother," Arya said kindly.

Tyrion looked as if she had given him the best gift in the world. "You know, I should have married into the Stark family years ago. You lot all love me better than my entire family ever did."

Arya's hand snaked out from beneath her cloak and seized Tyrion's tiny hand. "You have done more for my family than others have done in generations. I will be proud to one day fully acknowledge you as my brother."

Tyrion squeezed Arya's hand. "You are a sweet girl. Equally as sweet as your sister at your age, but you have seen so much more. I hope you do not have to see all the horrors of war."

"I will never be as innocent as my sister," Arya said regretfully.

Tyrion gave her a questioning look but did not question her. Instead, he looked over at his men who were still playing with the whores and whistled at them. The two men looked up and sadly removed the women from their laps. After a few parting kisses and coins were exchanged, the men approached Tyrion and waited for him. He stood up and went around the table to where Arya sat. "Until we meet again," he said. Then he turned and led the way out of the inn on his gnarled legs.

Arya sat for a few moments staring at the table and processing the information that had been passed to her before she felt a weight shift on her bench. She looked up and saw Gendry sitting next to her and Captain Glover filling the spot Tyrion had just occupied. She smiled at her companions. "Let's go home," she said.


	4. Family and Traitors

A/N: First, thank you for the reviews. I haven't expressed how grateful I am to all your kind words; it keeps me motivated to keep going. Second, this chapter is darker than what I have been writing so far and you'll see what I mean once you reach the end. Just think the style of the TV show and you'll be fine. With that said, I'll leave you to it. Enjoy!

* * *

_She had been wandering through this endless forest for weeks. She knew she was heading north, but she didn't know how far west she was or if she would make it to the Trident before each nightfall. She knew enough about trekking through the realm with Gendry and Hot Pie that she could make small traps for herself, build fires, and forage for berries. She thought of them now as she popped a few blue-colored berries in her mouth. She had forgotten what they were called but knew they weren't poisonous._

_The last thing she saw was Gendry doing his best to fight. He was an awkward fighter at best and he was exposed to his enemy. Arya had turned away and ran before she saw him getting killed. She didn't want to cry out or go charging into that fight. They were already sacrificing their lives for her, how many would curse her for letting herself get captured? She didn't want to believe Gendry and Hot Pie were dead, but who could know?_

_As the sun started to sink lower on the western horizon, she moved faster. She needed to keep going. The moment the stars came out was the time to hide. She searched for a small cave or a hollowed tree as she traversed the landscape. It was getting colder, but she still had the cloak one of the Brotherhood had given her. She patted the bag it was in, knowing full well if she broke out into a sweat and then lied down to sleep, she would never wake up again._

_Finally, just as the sun's last rays were being consumed beyond the earth, Arya finally slowed down. She hadn't found a good hiding place for the night and she knew she had to stop soon. Her eye caught something in the distance. It was in front of her, shining out from the darkness. As she watched it, trying to name it, she tripped over a hidden root and suddenly felt herself cascading down a hidden, dark decline. She grabbed at fallen leaves, twigs, anything that would stop her fast descent or from ending it with a sickening crunch into a tree. She felt the ground below her even out and she finally stopped rolling._

_She heard footsteps racing toward her, men yelling at one another about a breach in the camp. Horses were galloping toward her, dogs were barking. She had unwittingly stumbled upon a camp of brigands. They would kill her for sure—or worse. She tried to run back up the hill or at least to find a decent hiding place when something landed on her back and knocked the wind out of her as she fell to the ground. She turned over, groaning, to see a large dog standing above her._

_No. This was no dog. It was a wolf. A…direworlf? The wolf licked her face and cleaned off all the dirt. The men around her seemed disappointed. "Attack, stupid wolf! Don't lick 'im!" A voice commanded._

"_Grey Wind," an authoritative voice called. The wolf stopped its ministrations and pulled back, returning to its master's side._

Grey Wind?_ Arya thought. _Robb?_ She looked up at the dark faces on the horses. "Who are you?" the voice called out again._

"_Who are _you_?" Arya commanded. She was sitting up, but she didn't dare stand just yet._

_The men laughed. "Stop playing games with us, boy. We know you're a spy for the Lannisters," a solider called._

"_Lannisters? Do I look like a blonde freak to you?" she demanded, careful not to argue her gender._

"_Such a tough spirit for a small child out in the woods alone," the solider said through his laugh._

"_Who do you fight for?" she asked._

"_Who do _you_ fight for?" another solider asked._

"_I asked you first," she replied._

_Again, the soldiers surrounding her laughed. There were six men in total, all forming a semi-circle around her. If they made a move, she could easily avoid three of them, but the other three might catch on to her escape attempt by then._

"_We fight for King Robb Stark," the solider announced. "You bow to your king."_

_Arya's heart leapt. It was Robb! "I'm not going to bow to any king unless I know he's a true king," she said almost teasingly._

"_What do you mean by that?" the authoritative voice said. Was that Robb's voice? It had been too long since she had heard it._

"_You won't see me bowing and scraping to Joffrey anytime soon," she spat._

"_Who do you fight for, then?" the soldier asked again._

"_I fight for Lord Eddard Stark and his children. I fight for my friends who have been abused by the Pretender, but mostly I fight for myself and the hope that I'll make it through this forest alive to find my family," Arya said._

_The man with the direwolf dismounted his horse and walked slowly toward her. "What is your name?" he asked._

"_Friends call me Arry. But my family calls me Arya," she replied, chin held high, even though she was still seated on the forest floor._

_The direwolf passed its owner and approached Arya, nuzzling her lovingly. The wolf was as tall as she was in her position, but he was still as beautiful and dark as when he was a pup. Arya pet the wolf, then wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him with an aching sensation in her chest. She missed her own wolf, somewhere in these never-ending woods. She hid her tears in the wolf's thick coat._

_The man dropped to his knees beside her. "Arya?" he asked tentatively. He sounded as if he too was crying._

_She pulled her face out of Grey Wind's fur and looked into the blue, familiar eyes of her brother. "Robb," she cried, leaping out and wrapping her arms around his neck, burying her face into his neck. She was utterly exhausted from the months of walking and all the things she had seen. She couldn't begin to describe all she was feeling about finally reuniting with her brother. She felt as if she would burst._

_Robb held her tight against his chest. He felt his insides ache with joy, relief, and love for his little sister. He never thought he would ever hold his feisty sister again; but somehow, she had managed to find him, find her family, again. He picked her up and carried her over to his horse. "Shh, it's all right, Arya. You're home."_

* * *

Arya raced her horse through the cold forest to get back to camp. She heard Gendry and Captain Glover trailing behind her, trying to keep up with her. Her hood had fallen off her head and her short hair flew free around her face. She knew she risked frostbitten ears, but she didn't care. She had a duty to uphold.

They reached the camp by nightfall, just as the stars were starting to peek behind the twilit curtain. Captain Glover looked mad. Gendry looked amused. He knew she wouldn't have ridden recklessly if there hadn't been a reason.

She jumped down quickly from her horse and handed the reins to one of the soldiers who managed the stables. Arya passed by her council as she headed for the tent that held the traitor. She heard footsteps behind her as her trusted advisers rushed to keep up with her. Finally, she reached the tent and threw open the flap.

If possible, Theon looked worse than he had when he was first brought to the camp. She never thought that his guards would have protected him from abuse, and she honestly didn't care that they hadn't. He was responsible for the deaths of many innocent men, women, and children who were under the protection of Winterfell. Some of her men came from that great house or had family who had lived on the land. They deserved justice and she was going to finally bring it to them.

Theon looked up with the one good eye that wasn't completely swollen shut. He had bruises all over his face and he was filthy with dirt, sweat, and dried blood smeared all over his body. His clothes hung in tattered rags on his emaciated frame and made him look like a living skeleton. Her stomach lurched when she smelled the room. Normal smells mixed with the unnatural—feces, urine and a sickly tangy scent that Arya had a fairly good guess about but didn't want to name.

She walked slowly into the circle of light as she let her eyes and nose adjust to the room. She heard the council rustling nervously behind her, urgently whispering to one another, but not saying a word to her. They had to let her play this out.

Theon sputtered and coughed as he tried to speak. His thin frame shook as he tried to shake the dryness in his throat. He had no moisture left. "Give him some water," Arya ordered to one of the guards. He looked at her for a few seconds with a confused expression on his face, but decided it best to follow her orders without question. He took the skin container from his belt and slowly approached Theon. He tipped the bag up as her prisoner drank quickly and greedily. After a few seconds Arya said, "That's enough," with a mix of civility and forcefulness that caused the solider to quickly retreat from the traitor.

He took a few breaths and swallowed as he allowed the liquid to coat his parched throat. Finally, he licked his lips and croaked, "Arya?"

Arya's jaw clenched. While she didn't like the title everyone insisted on calling her, she felt he didn't deserve the privilege of speaking her name. Not the name her mother and father had given her. Not the name her brother Robb uttered with a hint of pride and awe laced in his voice. No, this man who betrayed her family and ruined her home did not have any right to speak her name. "You will call me _your grace_," she said in a steely tone.

Theon looked at her with his one good eye for nearly a minute before slightly nodding. "Do you know why you're here?" she asked.

He nodded again. "Yes," he croaked. "Your grace," he added quickly.

"Tell me," she replied.

He looked at her pleadingly. His voice was rough by not being used and he felt like every inch of him was on fire. He didn't know if he could speak, let alone compose a coherent thought. Her gaze told him he was to speak or else. Theon sighed and prayed once more to the Gods—old and new. "I'm here for my actions at Winterfell," he said slowly, pushing his voice to utter the words.

"And what were those actions, Greyjoy?" she asked with an edge of urgency.

"I conquered your house. I killed your master-at-arms," Theon said in as little words as possible.

"You betrayed my family's trust; you stole my home; you killed my brothers _and_ my people; and you burned the home my ancestors built down to the ground. Have I left anything else out?" she said impatiently.

"I didn't…" he said in a hoarse whisper.

"What?" she asked sharply.

"I didn't kill your brothers," he blurted.

Arya snorted in derision. She had heard the story; she knew the reality of things, even if Robb had remained hopeful. "Then where are they? It's been over five years, Greyjoy, and no one has heard from or seen Bran or Rickon since you made them your hostages. Everyone on those grounds perished, burned and bloodied beyond recognition. Do you expect me to believe that a little boy of seven and a crippled boy of ten could somehow slip under your nose and into the wilderness? And survive?" She had started to pace around Theon, circling him slowly like a vulture waiting for its prey to finally give up and die.

"They _did_ escape," he sputtered out resolutely.

"How convenient for you," she remarked. "Whether they died by your hand or not, you are the cause for their demise and so I still blame you for them. And I name you as Robb's murderer," she continued.

"Robb? I wasn't even here," he started.

"Exactly. You abandoned my brother and your duty to try and please your father instead. If you had been with him that day, he might still be alive."

"Ar—your grace," Theon began, "You cannot predict what could have happened. He might still have died. I would most definitely be dead."

"Yes, but then I wouldn't have had to deal with you," she said coldly.

"I've paid for my crimes, your grace," Theon pleaded. "I've done my penance. Please, end this misery." Tears had formed in his eyes. His pain was getting to be too much, and he could see the hatred on Arya's face. There was nothing he could do.

"Paid for your crimes?" she asked. "You think because you've been a prisoner and have suffered injuries to your person and to your pride that you are entitled to be freed? I have been where you have been, Greyjoy. I stood in a pen with twenty scared, young boys as they picked us out one by one to torture and kill us. My honor was threatened daily by the soldiers who watched me and waited for the day when I would blossom into a young lady. They kept whispering into my ear that the moment I bled, would be the last moment I could ever be considered an innocent girl. They promised to rape me every night, Greyjoy, countless soldiers who only desired one thing.

"And do you think I wanted to be treated like a child and given immunity? Do you think I sobbed and begged for someone to pity me? Do you think because I came from a noble family that I deserved to be treated like a high lady? No. I wanted to fight them all and prove that I was stronger than them. To show them that their words had no effect on me. That my name was nothing more than simply that. And now you sit here in front of me crying and beseeching. You're weak, Theon. You've always been weak. And my father did not teach you that. You got that by being a coward and a Greyjoy. Your sentence is simple. You will be beheaded and soon you will know nothing more of this world. I was promised a lifetime of misery and abuse. Tell me which sentence is worse and who deserves what."

Arya paused and found tears had fallen down her cheeks. As she reached up to wipe them away, she noticed her hands had clenched into fists and her fingernails had left crescent imprints on her palms. She furiously wiped away the moisture on her face and continued to stare at Theon defiantly. She had never spoken a word about those moments in Harrenhal where the soldiers would watch her, leering at her and inspecting her body to see if her breasts were growing or if her hips were starting to take a shape. She had had nightmares of those faces, she still sometimes did. She thought of Gendry's reaction. She hadn't told him of this. She knew if she had, he would have been stupid and tried to protect her. Stupidly noble Gendry.

"I didn't ask for this role, Theon, and I certainly didn't expect my life to turn out like this. We have been dealt our hands, and now we must play them out. You do understand why this has to be done, right?" she asked. The tension was high in the room now, and she knew she had to finish this. Now. Finally.

He nodded. Tears were still leaking from his eyes, but not from pain anymore. He hadn't known what his fate would be, but he had suspected it would turn out like this. He had half hoped to die during the endless beatings he had been taking from the Northern men. To hear the confirmation of his imminent death would be enough to make any man weep. "There is no hope you will reconsider?" he asked, half hopeful, half dreading her response.

"No. Whether or not you killed my brothers, you still attacked the North and you killed innocent people. My men will not let you live and I agree that it is best," Arya explained. "It will be more honorable if I carry out your sentence rather than let my men beat you into oblivion. That, I will give you." She knew she was not required to explain this to him, but she thought it would offer him some comfort knowing his actions all those years ago were finally leading to the drop of the sword. There was never any hope of reconsideration.

He choked back his sobs and sniffed as snot slid down his dirty face. "Thank you, your grace," he replied with his tired voice.

She turned to the soldier who had retreated into the corner. "Please retrieve the block," she requested. The soldier left and soon returned with the large slab of wood. In the time he was gone, no one uttered a sound. Not even the curious council. They finally knew what was taking place and they had no arguments or comments.

The soldier untied the prisoner and eased his body down to the uncomfortable block. At least he wouldn't register it for much longer.

Arya unsheathed her sword and placed it point down on the ground in front of her, kneeling and placing her forward on the end of the hilt. She tried hard to remember the wording her father had uttered all those years ago—or at least the wording Jon had told her their father had spoken. "I, Arya, of the House Stark, Lady of Winterfell and Queen in the North do sentence you, Theon, of the House Greyjoy, traitor to the Starks and Winterfell, murderer of the innocent Northerners, to die."

She stood up and lifted her sword, placing edge of the steel on the back of Theon's neck. She felt him shudder underneath the cool edge. She took a deep breath and stared at the skin between his hair and shirt. _Just under the hairline_, someone had told her last week. _Strike with as much power as you can muster_, someone else had mentioned. _Do it in one stroke, if you can_, yet another had advised. Thoughts jumbled around in her head searching for the right one when she saw images of her little brothers in her mind's eye, running around Winterfell. They stopped and turned to look at her. They both nodded then ran off, back into her subconscious.

Arya took another deep breath and lifted the sword high above her head. With all the strength she could call upon in her body, she pushed the sword through the air and finally through flesh, bone and sinew. She saw Theon's head fall to the ground with a sickening thud as blood poured from his body. The head rolled toward the council who was watching her in shock. His body collapsed and twitched, its life's blood draining out of it quickly. Arya felt completely numb. She felt her stomach churn unpleasantly as she stared at her bloodied sword.

She stood there for what felt like an eternity, staring at the place where Theon's head had just been. No one else moved or uttered a sound. Suddenly, she stood upright, turned, and walked straight past the council and out of the tent. Captain Glover made a move to follow her but Gendry stopped him. "No. I should go. Have someone clean this up," he said, gesturing to what was left of Theon Greyjoy.

He quickly ran out of the tent and looked along the aisle the rows of the tents had made. Night had set but there were lamps lighting the snowy paths in a flickering, low light. He squinted in the dark, hoping to detect any movement in the dark. There was no one outside.

She was gone.


End file.
